Siblings and Storytime
by frenchhornfreak
Summary: Numbers 69 and 73 of my 100 theme challenge. After William III gets mad at his little sister for being annoying, his father asks him to watch her, and it ends up bringing the two siblings closer together. Twoshot birthday present for Mar! WE postAWE
1. Annoyance

Hellooooo everybody! So this is one of those fics I wrote a loooooong time ago (actually it was just Christmas of 2007, which I guess is a while ago) but didn't think it was good enough to put up here. I just wasn't satisfied with it, etc. Well, I've decided I'm going to put those things aside and just present it to you. Some of the facts (like Liam's schooling) may not be historically accurate, and I couldn't find an age that worked good for the storyline for both Liam and Abby. But apart from that, I find it rather cute, and I hope you do too. This is part one of a two shot. I'll post the second part once I edit it one last time. :D This is a sort of sequel to "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" in that it takes Liam's younger sister Abby, but it's not really necessary to read it (unless you want to make me really happy!).

Oh, and also, this is my birthday present for my adopted sissy number 2 Mar (setarip on HTR). HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYY (even though it's late).

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69. Annoyance

"Liam! Liiiiiiiaaaaaammmmmmmm!" I groaned and rolled my eyes. _Could I not get two minutes without being disturbed?_ I thought silently to myself. I glanced over my shoulder to see my four-year-old sister Abby skipping gaily over to me. I let out a moan. Abby was forever bothering me when I was working. She never seemed to get that I was busy. Sighing loudly, I turned in my chair to face her.

"What is it, Abby? I'm doing schoolwork," I told her, hoping she would get the hint and leave. She bounced on the balls of her feet, her brown curls dancing on her small shoulders.

"Will you play with me?" Apparently, the hint was not taken. I turned back to my slate.

"I just told you! I'm working!" I repeated exasperatedly. Now I was getting angry. My work was taking enough time already with out Abby being bothersome. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. Her bright face fell slightly.

"Oh," she whispered. I cringed internally. I really did hate letting her down, but I had things to do, and she was getting in the way. Not to mention she was being a pain. I didn't need to entertain her every waking moment of the day, did I? She should be able to find her own entertainment. I continued my work half-heartedly, still feeling her presence behind me. That was almost as annoying as her talking to me, because now, she was just standing there, watching me. I leaned my head up helplessly and turned back to her.

"Are you just going to sit there and watch me?" I asked her. She shrugged. Ugh, was I ever going to be rid of her? I moved to continue working, choosing to ignore her answer.

"Whatcha working on?" she asked, oblivious to my anger. She scurried over to my side and peeked over my elbow. I moved my arm slightly so she could see, and hoped that maybe, once she found out what I was doing, she would leave. No such luck.

"What is that?"

"Multiplication tables," I sighed with a tone of finality, trying to appear as if I was working diligently.

"What are mulpikitation tables? Do you eat on them?" she asked innocently, her brown eyes wide. I sighed and turned to her again.

"It's mul-ti-pli-ca-tion. And no, you don't eat on it. It's math," I told her. "Hard math," I added in an undertone.

"Oh," she said again, climbing onto the chair next to me and standing on it to get a better view. I moaned silently. Why couldn't she just go away?

"Can I help?" That was the final straw.

"You can help by leaving me alone!" I yelled. "This is hard enough without you constantly being an annoyance!" Abby's bottom lip trembled as she tried to hold back tears.

"Fine!" she yelled back. Sticking her tongue out at me, she spun on her heels and ran out of the room, crying.

I sighed miserably. "Now you've done it," I said to myself, glaring at my slate. "Now she'll go tattle on you. Great job, Liam. Good going." I picked up my chalk again. I hadn't meant to get so mad at her, but she had just sent me over the edge, and I exploded. Yes, she was annoying, but I felt terrible for making her cry. I started working on my multiplication again. Eleven times three. _What is eleven times three?_ I racked my brain. I hated multiplication. I was terrible at math, and it kept getting harder and harder. I twisted my chalk, trying to remember what eleven times three was. _Oh, right!_ I thought. _Eleven times three equals thirty-three! _I hastily scratched two three's onto the slate with my chalk next to the problem. Suddenly, my ears pricked. A faint noise was growing steadily closer. Footsteps echoed in the silent house. As the noise grew louder, my heart sank, as I realized that it was my sister, crying. _Great. Now I'm in trouble._ Father, looking rather frazzled, walked into the room, carrying a sobbing Abby in his strong arms.

"William Jonathan Turner!" he yelled. I turned guiltily in my chair to face him. "Explain yourself!" His tired eyes bored into me. I flushed slightly and stared at my worn, brown boots.

"I was working on my multiplication tables," I started meekly, "when Abby came in here and bothered me. She was being really annoying, and I kind of exploded at her. I'm sorry! I really am." I looked up at him again, with wide, guilty eyes and a frown on my face. Father's eyes softened slightly. Placing Abby, who had stopped crying, on the floor, he came and sat down next to me.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Liam," he sighed, rubbing his exhausted eyes. "I'm just hanging by a thread here." I watched as he ran a tired hand through his hair. "When Abby came to me crying, she woke up your mother." I winced. Mother was pregnant again, and she hadn't been getting much sleep lately, so she was extremely grumpy. I imagined that she wasn't too happy when Abby woke her up. I looked apologetically back at Father. "Yes. And she yelled at me for it," he chuckled a little.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly, a small smile gracing my face.

"It's not your fault that your mother is acting a bit crazy," he replied, tousling my hair. I smiled up at him. "But on top of that, I was trying to do some paperwork for the shop, since I'm taking care of your mother and I can't be in there working. It's been piling up anyway. I guess it was about time to tackle it," he added.

"Can I help you at all?" I asked, trying to make amends. Father eyed me hesitantly.

"Well," he started, "If you really wanted to be a big help, you could entertain Abby." I groaned, glancing at my sister, who was standing in the middle of the room and smiling innocently, and then turned back to Father. "It would be a very big help to both your mother and me." He guilted me into it. I sighed.

"Fine, I'll take her to the beach," I relented. Abby cheered behind me as Father smiled gratefully at me. Standing up, he gave me a big hug.

"Thank you so much. You're such a wonderful son," I smiled widely at him. "Maybe later we can do some sword fighting, hm? What say you to that?"

"Aye!" I exclaimed. Father smiled and patted my shoulder. "Come on, Abby, let's go." She grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door, laughing jubilantly.

"Don't be out past sunset! Your mother will kill us both if you're late for dinner!" Father called after us. I waved back at him.

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So that's part one. Constructive criticism is always welcome! And if anyone has a better title for this twoshot, it is also very welcome. I just came up with the current one off the top of my head really fast so I could post this. :)


	2. I Can't

Ahhh sorry guys! I meant to update this a lot sooner. Real life got in the way. Sorry! Anyways, this is the part I was talking about where the ages just don't fit right. Liam acts younger than he is, and Abby talks like she's much older. And it's incredibly cheesy... just a warning! Take it with a grain of salt for what it is: a cute sibling story with absolutely no plotline. I hope you enjoy it all the same, though. Review are always welcome!

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73. I Can't

"Come on, Liam, let's go!" Abby exclaimed in her cute four-year-old voice as she pulled on my arm. We started walking to the shore, Abby leading. Our abandoned shoes sat lonely in the sand as we ran towards the water. It felt so good, the cool grains of sand running over my feet. I wiggled my toes.

"Let's play pirates, Liam!" Abby yelled at me from the water. I jogged over to where she stood.

"Don't get your dress wet, Abby," I warned her. "Mother would kill you." She paid me no mind, splashing and kicking in the water, sending showers of salty droplets onto her blue dress.

"You be Davy Jones. I'll be Mama," she commanded. "Fight me!" She picked up a long stick from the water and brandished it like a sword.

"Hold on. Let me get a stick," I told her, blocking her first swing with my hand. I ran up and down the shore, hunting for a long enough stick. Upon my return, Abby started attacking me.

"Watch it, Abs!" I warned as she violently swung the stick around.

"I'm not Abby! I'm Elizabeth Swann!" she informed me, trying to look fierce. I laughed.

"Actually, I think you're Elizabeth Turner at this point." Abby shrugged her small shoulders. We both knew our parents' story well. It was first told to Abby as a bedtime story with made-up names, but upon her fourth birthday, Mother and Father told her the truth of the story. The idea that her parents were pirates was still new very new to Abby, and she loved reenacting their adventures.

"Okay. I'm not afraid of you, Davy Jones!" She exclaimed as she attacked me. I blocked all of her swings skillfully, yet carefully, for fear of hurting her. We continued fighting and acting out the battle scene, moving out of the water and across the beach, pretending to be on a ship that was swirling around in a maelstrom.

"Now, this is where you knock me to the side," Abby informed me. I pretended to hit her with my stick. She fell dramatically to the sand, panting and looking expectantly at me. Sighing loudly, she said, "Liam, say it! Say your line!"

"But there's no Father," I made up an excuse. I didn't mind playing pirates with Abby, but I hated reenacting this scene. I just couldn't do it. It was too sad.

"Here," Abby threw me a rotting log. "Use this!" I eyed it questioningly, but placed it on the ground all the same. "Now go." I sighed regretfully.

"Okay," I said, regaining what little composure I could. "Ah. Love. A dreadful bond, yet so easily severed. Tell me, William Turner, do you fear death?" I said in what I imagined was Davy Jones' accent.

"Do you?" I heard Abby say from behind me. She had switched roles, from Mother to Uncle Jack. I turned around, acting scared. Abby held 'the heart', which was actually a rock, in one hand, and a 'dagger', which was actually a stick, in the other hand. "Heady tonic, holding life and death in the palm of one's hand." Well, that's what I knew the phrase was. Abby had actually stumbled over words she couldn't remember, as she was only four. I chuckled a little at her mispronunciations, and then put on a serious face again.

"You're a cruel man, Jack Sparrow," I said menacingly, stepping towards Abby.

"Cruel is a matter of perspective," she told me. I looked at her, not wanting to do what came next. I silently made a wish that she wouldn't make me do it. I didn't think I could make myself. "Liam!" she exclaimed exasperatedly. "This is where you stab Papa. Remember?"

"I can't," I told her miserably. She pouted, crossing her arms.

"Please?"

"No. I really can't, Abby."

"Please? Pretty, pretty please?" she begged, giving me the puppy look. I sighed, my heart aching. I hated acting out Father's death, but if it made Abby happy….

"All right," I sighed. She clapped happily. I resumed acting. "Is it?" I asked in Davy Jones' accent. I turned around and half-heartedly stabbed the sand next to the rotting log. Abby let out a gasp. I twisted the stick, wincing. It didn't matter that it was just a log. Father's death was too real to me. My heart panged.

"Wait!" Abby said. "You come be Uncle Jack now. I want to be Mama again." I dragged myself over to take the 'dagger' and 'heart' from her and she went to sit next to 'Father'.

"Will, stay with me!" she cried, lying across the log. Abby was very good at acting. She sobbed over 'Father', telling him to stay with her and that she loved him. I knew what I was supposed to do, but I was paralyzed. I couldn't bring myself to go on with the story. I sank into the sand, still watching her. It was heartbreaking; it was all too real. Father's death brought his ten years of servitude. Ten years of separation from Mother. Ten years I didn't get to enjoy his company. Ten years I didn't even get to meet him. Ten years of hearing Mother talking and weeping over the chest. Ten years of sadly watching my friends and their fathers laugh and spend time together. Ten years of heartache. Ten years of tears. Seeing the emotion from Abby was too much to bear. I couldn't take it. Tears streamed silently down my cheeks.

"Liam!" Abby reprimanded, not looking up. "You're supposed to come over here with the heart."

"Abby, I can't do it!" I cried, wiping my tears from my face. She looked up and saw me crying.

"Oh, Liam! I didn't mean to make you cry!" she exclaimed, running over to me. "Don't be sad. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I wiped my eyes, sniffling.

"It's okay, Abby," I said weakly. "You're just very good at acting."

"I'm sorry I made you do that," she told me softly, sitting in my lap. "I know you don't like it." I smiled a small smile at her. I knew she was too young to fully understand why I didn't like acting out this particular scene. Our parents' story was still very new to her; the reality of it was still sinking in. I knew that she didn't understand what we had gone through.

"Abby," I started, "I know you're too young, but do you have any idea what this was like?" I asked, pulling her closer. Abby looked at me questioningly. "I understand that this is still like a bedtime story for you, but do you realize that this all really happened? Mother really did fight Davy Jones. Father really did get stabbed."

"I know," she stated, looking up at me with her dark brown eyes. They looked so much like Father's.

"Father was really gone for ten years," I whispered, tears threatening to spill again. "I went almost ten years without meeting Father. Do you know what that was like?" I asked her, my voice growing louder. "Imagine not having Father with us."

"I'd be really sad," Abby said sorrowfully.

"Imagine not even knowing Father at all," I told her. Tears leaked out of both of our eyes. I pulled her into a hug.

"Abby, I don't mean to make you sad. I just want you to understand why I can't act out Father's death." Abby nodded against my shoulder. I rubbed her back soothingly.

"I understand," she said, sitting up and wiping her eyes with the back of her small hands. I smiled at her and patted her head.

"I'll be happy to reenact anything else though. Come on. Just tell me what you want to do," I told her cheerfully. She smiled, but scooted to sit in front of me instead.

"Actually, I'd like you to tell me a story," she told me. I patted her leg.

"Any story you would like to hear. Your wish is my command."

"Well, there is one I haven't heard yet," she said. I looked at her expectantly. "Tell me about the day Papa came home." I smiled. I liked this story.

"Okay. It was a day much like this. Mother and I walked out to the bluff over there to wait for Father," I pointed to the grassy hill to my left. Abby gazed over there and smiled. "The sun was setting. I was singing the pirate song as I skipped over to the edge."

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me," Abby sang sweetly. I laughed and ruffled her hair.

"Mother came and stood next to me," I continued. "I was excited, but nervous at the same time. I was scared that Father might not love me, but Mother put her arm around me to comfort me. A million thoughts were running through my head as we watched the sky in anticipation. The sun crept slowly down the sky. And then…"

"And then?" Abby echoed excitedly.

"The flash of green," I told her. She smiled at me, her eyes aglow.

"Father's ship appeared on the horizon and we watched him sail towards shore. He was exactly how I imagined him. Exactly as Mother had described to me over the years. When he got close to the shore, Mother and I ran down to the beach here to meet him in the longboat. When he first stepped on shore, he didn't even acknowledge me." Abby looked at me, surprised.

"Why not?" she asked, looking concerned.

"Well, when he got out of the longboat, Mother ran to him. He took her in his arms and kissed her. A lot."

"Eww!" Abby yelled, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "That's almost as bad as Mama kissing Santa Claus." I chuckled.

"After he finally let go of Mother, he turned to me. I remember just standing there and staring at him nervously, not sure of what to do. Then, he smiled at me and said, 'Come here, son.' I ran into his arms and he picked me up and spun me around. I just hugged him and kept saying, 'Papa! Papa!' over and over again. He told me that he loved me, and that he promised never to leave me again. Then, we all walked home." I smiled, my heart warm from the memory.

"That was a good story," Abby said. I looked out at the horizon.

"It's nearly sunset," I said. Abby turned around to look.

"Think we'll see the green flash?" I looked down at my little sister.

"I don't know. It's supposed to be rare. Only when-"

"A soul comes back from the dead!" Abby cut in. "Oh, I hope we see it!" We watched the sun creep slowly down to the water. I put my arm around Abby's small shoulders as the last lines of the sun's rays approached the horizon as disappeared beyond it. Right as the sun disappeared,

_Woosh._

A grin spread across Abby's face as the flash reflected in her glowing eyes. She looked back at me, and I smiled, taking her hand and squeezing it. She laughed her sweet and tinkling little laugh and leaned her head against my shoulder. I kissed the top of her head adoringly and said, "We should be getting back. Father doesn't want us out past sunset." We stood up and grabbed our shoes and started walking back home.

"Liam?"

"Yes, Abby?"

"Thank you for taking me to the beach. I had fun," she told me, gazing up at me. I smiled down at her.

"You're very welcome." And as we walked, hand in hand, back home, I decided that my annoying little sister wasn't that bad after all.

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Thanks for reading! Yes, I know the green flash was cheesy, but hey! We see how many in AWE? Three? And it's supposed to be a rare occurence? So why not one more. Abby deserves it for being cute. :)


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